Authority of the Night
by scribe'sdaughter
Summary: The windows cracked and shattered. The whores screamed and light bulbs exploded, engulfing the whole tavern in black. She leaned into his hard frame, "for good luck baby," she breathed before devouring his warm lips. He smirked in return before owning her, swallowing her insolence.


**Here's a really quick one-shot, hope you like it. **

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The Authority of the Night

This shit hole was probably birthed from the bowels of hell itself. Innocently deceptive, it entertained only the most successful of clientele. In slithered Republic City's most venomous of predators, sins and devils out to play, toys sharp and pockets full. The Noir, it had a dirty reputation.

Music pulsed in dark sensuality, lust blanketed the atmosphere in thick and heady waves. Patrons enticed into more…illicit activities danced with shadows in dim corners. The booze was flowing, the women were cheap and the night was young.

Good. The stranger surveyed his surroundings in keen disinterest. Exhaling his cigarette, he puffed wisps of smoke into the already suffocating darkness. Amber eyes closed, relishing the heat of it's burn. The buxom brunette who straddled him on the barstool gyrated and moaned wantonly. He silenced her with a kiss.

The bartender whistled lowly as he eyed the couple in thirst. Sloppily, he wiped the counters down with lard while indiscreetly checking out the woman's rack.

"Get me a drink will ya?" the stranger murmured into the painted lips of his entertainment.

"What'll it be Mac?" his voice was as greasy as his counters.

"A massacre."

The bartender looked at him oddly. A massacre for a stuffy guy like him? Now that was amusing. Mixing various poisons together, he made sure to add an extra shot of tequila, just to mess with the little shit.

"You got a name Mac?" no response. Man, the dude was strung tight. Shrugging, the bartender topped off the tequila potion with a spit in the drink. "You sure it won't be too hot?" his red veined eyes drunk in the sight of the brunette licking her scarlet lips and exposing more of her neck enticingly. "You seem pretty green Mac. You up for it?"

"Yea Mac," the girl teased. The stranger glared at her. Giggling, she leaned into his hard frame, "for good luck baby," she breathed before devouring his warm lips. He smirked in return before owning her, swallowing her insolence. She snatched his cigarette from his gloved hand, blowing smoke ringlets onto his face, challenging him. He grunted in dissatisfaction. Within moments, the stranger chugged his shot down in one gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing in contentment.

Once finished, he politely placed the shot glass onto the countertop and raised a quirked eyebrow at his skeptic. The weasel-snake's challenge was well met. The bartender frowned. Smoothly wiping rouge stain from the corners of his mouth with thumb, molten eyes winked at his prize, "I guess I'm going to have to claim my reward then." Cheeks flushed and eyes twinkling, she caressed his thumb tainted in her lipstick and brought it towards her mouth, sucking suggestively. Amber eyes widened in surprise and darkened in desire.

"Not bad Mac. Never thought you'd down that girl in one go." A double headed statement.

His scorching gaze tore away from the beautiful woman's mouth and turned towards the horny bartender, "believe me, this was just what the doctor ordered." His eyes languidly closed half way as his woman nipped and teased, both pair of eyes discreetly eyeing the ticking hand of the grandfather clock. She bit his neck in signal. It was almost time.

"Thanks for the massacre."

"No problem Ma—"

It happened so fast. The strange, amber eyed man smashed his shot glass against the bartender's temple, knocking the greasy shit unconscious before even finishing his sentence. Blood glistened from the shards of glass embedded into the dead man's cranium.

"My name's not Mac."

The windows cracked and shattered. The whores screamed and light bulbs exploded, engulfing the whole tavern in black. Like strobe lights, flashes of lightning and water played seamlessly together, electrocuting the tavern inhabitants. Gamblers grubbed at their sack loads of "earnings" and fled. They didn't get far. The girl straddling his lap stood and gracefully encapsulated the fleeing patrons within blocks of ice. The stranger and the prostitute stood back to back, defense and offense fluidly coexisting as one. Grabbing the cigarette from her saccharine mouth, her partner inhaled gloriously one last time before crushing the cig with the heel of his boot. She snorted. Screams muted into the backdrop as he enjoyed the scene before both of their burning gazes.

After months of investigation, The Noir was finally shutting down.

"Nice work infiltrating their base officer." His partner's tight fitted bodice slimmed down her already toned waist and accentuated her womanly curves. Her breasts was practically spilling from her tightly bound corset as she unsuccessfully attempted to pull the offending article of clothing higher in order to shield her cleavage. Korra licked the oppressive rouge stain from her bruised lips. Mako couldn't help but stare, awed at the outcome of his roughness. It was sexy.

"Not so bad yourself partner." At the sound of his husky whisper, she looked up; his eyes were darkened and misted over. Korra flushed and cleared her throat, maybe she shouldn't have played him too much. But it was so damned fun to see him squirm.

She gulped.

Who's squirming now?

"Mako—"

He eyed her provocative outfit and kissed her soundly. "Why don't we finish what you started?"

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**Now it's time for you to beat me up with your proverbial boxing gloves and critique. You have no idea how grateful I am when you guys take the time out to dissect my pieces. It always fuels me to please y'all more. **

**If anyone's following my story, Silly of Me, don't worry guys, it's coming at the end of the week. Pinky Promise :)**


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